tation, and thereby produce bile, heart-burn, difficulty of breathing, and other derangements. I have often experienced ill effects from washing my feet at night instead of in the morning, fasting, which is decidedly the safest time. Of course, persons in high health may allow themselves liberties; but those who are at all liable to indigestion cannot be too observant of even their most trifling actions. In my next number I shall take up the subject of diet.

COURTEOUS FORBEARANCE.

A gentleman, making a morning call upon a late county member of great taste and scrupulous courtesy, was accompanied into a library by a beautiful kid, which he found standing at the street-door. During the conversation the animal proceeded round the room, examining the different objects of art with ludicrous curiosity, till coming to a small bronze statue, placed upon the floor, he made a butt at it, and knocked it over. The owner of the house taking no notice, his visitor observed, "That kid is a special favourite, I perceive; how long have you had it?" "I had it!" exclaimed the virtuoso in an agony; "I thought it had been yours.' "Mine!" said the gentleman, with no less astonishment; "it is not mine, I assure you." Whereupon they both rose, and by summary process ejected the intruder.

SAYINGS.

The taxes of state are more oppressive than the State taxes. Private comfort and public magnificence constitute the perfection of society.

The cheapest government is not the best, but the best government is the cheapest; that is, God's few at the top, well paid by God's many.

Philosophy is a fire of rotten sticks flickering in a desert, with all around cold and dark. Religion is the glorious sun, cheering and illuminating universally.

What an annoyance are long speakers, long talkers, and long writers!-people who will not take time to think, or are not capable of thinking accurately. Once when Dr. South had preached before Queen Anne, her majesty observed to him, "You have given me a most excellent discourse, Dr. South; but I wish you had had time to have made it longer." "Nay, madam," replied the doctor; "if I had had time I should have made it shorter." The model of a debate is that given by Milton in the opening of the second book of Paradise Lost.'

DERIVATIONS.

There is no word in the English language so much abbreviated from its original as the word "alms," from the Greek ¿λɛŋuoovvn. Six syllables are contracted into one; thus, el-e-e-mos-u-ne— elmosune-elmosn (from which the French aumône), alms; in Italian limosina, from the same original. The practice amongst modern nations of appropriating different parts of words from the dead languages is by no means uncommon; as in the proper name Johannes, the English take the first part, John; and the Dutch the last, Hans. These instances of derivation made an impression upon me, because they were told me, when a boy, by the two greatest masters of their day in language; the first by Horne Tooke, the second by Porson; both of whom possessed the gratifying faculty of adapting their conversation to the young and the unlearned. The word alms in the original signifies something given from the motive of pity; but however amiable the feeling, we should be careful not to indulge it idly and indiscriminately. It is often said, we ought to give for our own sakes, without inquiry; in my opinion a very unsound and selfish doctrine. It is difficult to bestow charity without doing more harm than good. We not only run the risk of paralyzing the moral energies of the immediate objects of our bounty, but of those who hope to become so. Giving with discretion is a great virtue; it is twice blessed, and the extent of its benefits can never be foreseen to either party. Illustrative of this is the following narrative, the first part of which is true to the letter:—

A FEW SHILLINGS WELL LAID OUT.

As the burly coachman of one of the northern stages was remounting his box one bleak November night at the door of a little inn noted for spiced ale

"How much will you take me to London for ?" said a thinly clad boy of about fourteen, in a soft and doubting tone. The coachman turned round, and with a look of contempt, slightly qualified by pity, growled out,

"Can't take you for less than half-a-crown."

"I have only a shilling left," said the boy.

"Why didn't you say so at first?" said the coachman, replacing his foot on the nave of the wheel. The boy retreated a step into the shade.

Come, jump up, my lad," cried a gentleman on the coach; "I will find you eighteenpence."

"Are not you very cold?" said the gentleman, after a short interval.

"Not very," replied the boy, rubbing his hands cheerily up

and down in the pockets of his cotton trousers. was thinking of London."

"Not very; I

"And what are you going to do there?" said the gentleman. The boy replied that he was going to be bound apprentice to his uncle, who kept a cook's shop in the Borough. Then he told his own little history, and how he had travelled up one hundred and fifty miles with the few shillings his widowed mother had been able to muster for him; and he concluded with a very intelligent account of his native place, and a no less amusing one of the principal people in its neighbourhood.

"And what do you intend to do to-night?" said the gentle

man.

"I shall go to my uncle's," replied the boy.

"But how will you find him out?" We shall not arrive before midnight; besides, your uncle will be gone to bed. Come, I will give you five shillings, and you can stay comfortably at the inn till morning.'

(To be continued.)

No. VI.-WEDNESDAY, JUNE 24, 1835.

PAROCHIAL GOVERNMENT-(continued.)

I was asked the other day by an inhabitant of one of the great squares what there could possibly be to do for the head of a parish ward, supposing parishes to be divided as I propose. Let us suppose the parish, in which the square is situated, to be divided, and the square to be one of the wards, and that the management of everything which relates generally to the interests of the parish, such as lighting, paving, cleansing, police, and pauperism, was centered in the parish council, consisting of the heads of the different wards. Now the square being inhabited by rich people, a rich man would be elected for its head, one who had a common interest with those over whom he was immediately placed, which interest he would represent in the council, and superintend in the ward. He would have a voice in raising the general supplies, and authority to see to their particular application in his own ward. He would have a perfect knowledge of his district, and a constant eye to its good management. He would be an easy channel for the other inhabitants to apply through, in case of any complaint to redress, or any suggestion to offer. He would be the guardian of the peace of his ward, and responsible for it, with his subordinate officers to assist him. His personal superintendence would be a check to anything detrimental to the common interest. He would be able to collect

the bulk of the rates free of expense, returning the defaulters, if any, to be dealt with by the council. He would have authority sufficient to maintain the interests of his ward, and would be sufficiently controlled not to be able to maintain them at the expense of the interests of the parish. He would have a compact and practicable field for the discharge of his public duty, and would have an opportunity, if he were so minded, as no doubt many would be, to distinguish his year or years of office by acts of munificence and public spirit. Whatever information or returns were wanted, they could, through his means, be easily and accurately obtained. In such a ward the duties would be lighter and more simple than in poorer and less cultivated ones; but still there would be evils to prevent, and advantages to procure, as well as to see to the due management of the ordinary business; and such a superintendence, made universal, could not fail to ensure the spread of good government, and of local improvement, with great rapidity. I shall have more to say on this subject in my observations on parish government in the aggregate, which I will endeavour to condense in my next number, so as to conclude the subject.

THE ART OF ATTAINING HIGH HEALTH-(continued.)

I must begin with a few remarks on my last article. I have there dwelt on the ill consequences of being heated by exercise just before or after meals. There is one case which seems to be almost an exception; I mean that of dancing immediately before or after supper; at least, I never suffered any inconvenience from it in my ailing days, though I cannot speak from much experience. But further, I do not call to mind any instances in other persons, and at any rate they cannot be so common as would be the case from any other mode of equal exertion under similar circumstances. The reason I take to be this-that from the enlivening effect upon the spirits, the digestive powers are able to overcome any tendency to fermentation; and if that be So, it proves the extreme healthfulness of the exercise, when taken rationally and for its own sake, instead of, as it usually is, as an exhibition, in over-crowded and over-heated rooms at the most unseasonable hours.

I particularly recommended in my last number attention to the state of the mind, because the effect of the spirits is very great and often even instantaneous in accelerating or retarding the digestive powers; and upon the digestive powers immediately depends whatever happens to our physical being. Whenever food is taken into the stomach, it begins directly to undergo a

There

change, either from the action of the gastric juice, which is the desirable one, or from that of the natural heat. In the latter case, a sensation of fulness and weight is first produced, and then of more active uneasiness, as fermentation proceeds; and at last, when digestion commences, it is upon a mass more or less corrupted, according to the quantity and nature of the food, the time it has remained, the heat of the body, and perhaps other circumstances. The mind will frequently regulate all this, as I have repeatedly experienced; for a feeling of lightness or oppression, of fermentation or quiescence, will come or go as the spirits rise or fall, and the effect is generally immediately perceptible in the countenance, and felt throughout the whole frame: Such influence has the mind on the digestive powers, and the digestive powers on the body; and when we speak of a light or heavy heart, we confound it with a less romantic organ. The heart, it is true, will beat quicker or slower; but the lightness or heaviness we feel is not there. There is no sickness of the heart; it needs no cordial and the swain who places his hand in front, whatever the polite may think, is the right marksman. lies our courage, and thence proceed our doubts and fears. These truths should make us careful how we live; for upon the digestive organ mainly depend beauty and strength of person, and beauty and strength of mind. Even the most eminently gifted have never been proof against its derangement. It is through the digestion that grief and all the brooding affections of the mind affect the frame, and make the countenance fallen, pale, and liny, which causes Shakspeare to call it "hard-favoured grief," and to say that "grief is beauty's canker." On the other hand, joy, or any pleasurable affection of the mind, which promotes digestion, at the same time fills and lights up the countenance. Often when I have been taking a solitary meal, the appearance of an agreeable companion, or reading any good news, has produced an instantaneous effect upon my digestive organs, and, through them, upon my whole frame. In the same way a judicious medical attendant will, in many cases, by talking his patient into an appetite, or raising his spirits, do him more good than by any medicines. That all this is through the stomach, I will prove by two instances. First, no one will doubt that the scurvy proceeds from the state of that organ, and that through that organ alone it can be cured. Now, I have read in medical writers, that, after a tedious voyage, sailors, grievously afflicted, have repeatedly been known to have instantaneously experienced a turn in the disorder on the sight of land, and that soldiers besieged have been affected in like manner on the appearance of succour; that is, the spirits have produced the same effect that medicine